calm before the storm
by boys and girls look to the sky
Summary: Berlin, 1933. Step right up folks, step right up, we have your first-class tickets right here. Front row seats to the beginning of the end, watch a monster win his prize right in front of your eyes. Adolf Hitler is now dictator of Nazi Germany and Gilbert Beilschmidt is not amused. - Prussia, Germany, portrayal of Hitler. Teaser for my Fighter, Flier, Finder series.


_**23 March 1933**_

_**04:00 hours Central European Time**_

He begins the day with hope.

The sun hasn't yet risen over the city, and Gilbert sits below the statue in front of the Kroll Opera House, watching as Berlin slowly comes to life. The streetlamps cast pools of light upon the pavement, slick and shining from the rain of last night, and the air is crisp and cold. There's not a sound that descends upon the silence, save for the distant rumble of traffic and occasional bark of a dog.

Strangely, he finds he likes it.

Tilting his head back, he looks up at the few stars that glitter in the sky. He smirks and exhales, watching the smoke billow up like tiny storm clouds in the chilly air and thinks of a time when the only thing obstructing the lights was just trees, not artificial shine.

"You're here early."

Gilbert brings his gaze back down to earth. To the sharp clack of boots against cement. Ludwig stands in front of him, posture straight and tall like the perfect soldier he is supposed to be. It makes him almost laugh for a moment, the way his brother crept up on him. He didn't even see him.

"Well, don't go and die of shock."

Ludwig's face remains impassive. Gilbert rolls his eyes and stretches his legs out before him, letting a tiny bit of a grin cross his face that can be barely seen by the dim glow of the moonlight and the flare of the cigarette he holds in his hands.

"Did you walk all the way here?"

"Yes."

"Tch. I didn't even see you coming."

"You weren't paying attention."

"I was only looking up for a few seconds."

Ludwig says nothing again. Gilbert studies him for a moment. Blond hair slicked back with not a strand out of place. Uniform immaculate, shoes shining. He feels the corner of his mouth tug up as he considers flicking the cigarette ash onto the toe of his brother's boots, but thinks it'd probably be more trouble that it's worth.

He does it anyway.

Nothing.

"What's with you today?"

"You know what's going to happen."

_Oh for fuck's sake._

He doesn't want to deal with this. Not right now. Gilbert turns his head away, focusing his eyes on the ground, pondering the right words in his head. What to say? What to say? Whatever he has to say, Ludwig doesn't want to hear.

"Christ, Lud, I've known for the last few years. It's inevitable."

"And you're fine with it?"

Gilbert shrugs. Indifference. Ludwig isn't the only one who can feign it. He narrows his eyes over towards the horizon, past the line of buildings and past the few people walking among the streets, where a bright light is beginning to cut through the blanket of darkness covering the world, _hurry hurry hurry before it's too late._

He tries not to think back to a Potsdam church just two days ago, where a short and dark man with powerful ideas tried to lead people towards the light of the future. Lead them out of darkness and poverty and crushing defeat. And for the first time in a while he saw his brother stand up straight, like the weight of the world falling away, and Gilbert had thought for perhaps a moment that it would be all right.

For a moment.

"You're going to let it happen?"

Gilbert shrugs again. There are words he could say, but they are the exact words he is not allowed to. Ludwig can go on about the French and the British and the Americans and the darkness of Versailles and the light of the Reich. And they can face the dawn with hope, but there is still the shadow of doubt in Gilbert's heart that will not let him agree. Not quite yet.

"Do you think it's right?"

Even though Ludwig expression still seems indifferent, Gilbert can tell by the hesitation in his tone, the uncertainty. Is he making the right choice? Does he even have a choice? What would be best for the people, the land, after everything that has happened?

Is this the best, the only option?

"It's politics," He finally says, shaking his head, letting the hint of a smile creep into his tone as he breathes in the last of the cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment, burning and acrid and dangerous. "I couldn't give a damn about it either way, and I couldn't change it either."

Ludwig frowns, his face written with confusion. Gilbert can almost predict what he's going to say before he can say it, _aren't we the politics, isn't who we are dependent upon the politics of our nation, we are the government and the people and the leaders all at once._

(Sometimes it's easy for Gilbert to forget how young Ludwig really is. How much he really doesn't know.)

Before these words can come and hang in the frigid air between them, however, a different voice cuts through the night, and both men's heads turn to face the short man who has approached them.

"_Deutschland."_

Ludwig snaps to attention, clicking his heels together and thrusting his arm out at shoulder level, his mouth already moving to the words he knows by heart.

"_Heil Hitler!_"

The man allows the tiny semblance of a smile to curve under his mustache, and nods approvingly at Ludwig. He turns his gaze to the other as though noticing him for the first time, still sitting on the stone steps, seemingly without the intention of moving a muscle. The smile disappears.

"You have failed to salute, _Freistaat Preußen._"

_And you have failed to impress me so far, Chancellor, _is what Gilbert thinks in return, but he bites back the words along with the grimace that accompanies them, and instead directs his eyes back to the ground. He stubs out his cigarette, the concrete steps cold against his fingers, and stands up.

"Reporting for duty, _mein Reichsstatthalter_," is his only reply, his tone just as icy as the other's. Hitler glances at him for a moment, obviously unimpressed, before turning to his brother. The model Aryan, the one who matters.

"The _Aufrüstung_?"

"Going well enough."

"That is good. I shall have to ask you for the numbers later in the day." The lighter manner has returned. Ludwig's face still remains emotionless like a good little soldier, but Gilbert can tell by the light in his blue eyes that he is glad for the praise.

It's all he can do not to snicker.

_Taught you well._

"And what of Dachau?"

"Opened just yesterday, sir."

"Good, good," Hitler murmurs, his small dark eyes scanning the street for any passerby who might be listening. "Perhaps we shall be able to make it to good use."

Gilbert wonders why he bothers. It is no secret, the German rearmament. It is one of the few decisions the man has made that he actually supports. It is slow but steady work. He wonders if one of these days, if God and the League of Nations allows, perhaps he or Ludwig might be allowed to carry a weapon again.

But Dachau.

That is something else entirely, and he fights to keep the words in check until Hitler seemingly notices and addresses him.

"_Preußen."_

"Ja?"

He stands up and performs the proper salute this time, trying to keep the open dislike of his Reichsstatthalter off of his face when really all he can think of is _this man dissolved my parliament and my prime ministers he's taken everything everything why should I salute you._

But this man shall help Ludwig. That's all that matters, and as he lets his gaze wander over to his brother, standing proud and tall for the first time in so long, Gilbert swallows the words that rise up in him, burning and bitter like the taste of the smoke in his lungs.

Hitler gestures towards the door of the opera house, and Gilbert remembers flames that had once licked the blackened frame of Reichstag because of this one man and now welcomes him with open arms.

Irony. A laugh rises in his throat, twisted and dark that goes unnoticed by the men beside him. Why should they? He is nothing now. But he just tips his hat over his eyes as they walk up the steps and follows his brother into the opera house anyway, because really there is nothing more he can do, not for anyone.

The doors shut behind them. The sun rises.

"Today is the day that the world shall be anew."

The world, he thinks, is probably going to hell.

**_fin_**

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><p><strong>Historical Notes:<strong>

****_March 23_****_rd_****_, 1933 – The Enabling Act is passed, the act that officially establishes Adolf Hitler as dictator of Nazi Germany._****

**-The Enabling Act was passed by the Reichstag in the Kroll Opera House since the Reichstag building had been burned down several weeks before in a suspicious plot that some say was orchestrated by Hitler himself to rally the German people against the accused Communist arsonists.**

**-The Enabling Act was passed with little to no objection, giving Adolf Hitler most of the powers he desired as dictator.**

**-Hitler gave a speech in Potsdam two days before the Act was passed to encourage the people of his leadership, particularly the union of the "old Prussians" and "young Germans" to work together towards the new Reich.**

**-The Treaty of Versailles did not allow Germany to rebuild its army after WWI. However, it still did so secretly in a maneuver known as the _Aufrüstung_. In March of 1935, Hitler officially announced to the world of the German army's progress, though there were no repercussions.**

**-Hitler, in addition, had already withdrawn Germany from the League of Nations by then, back in 1933.**

**-Note that since this is before the death of President von Hindenburg, Hitler cannot be correctly referred to as "the Führer." However, he did put himself in charge of the German states upon assuming the position of Chancellor, taking by himself full responsibility for Prussia. Thus the position of _Reichsstatthalter_.**

**-Dachau was the first concentration camp to be finished in Germany. It opened officially March 22, 1933. **

**_By January 30_****_th_****_, 1935, the Free State of Prussia has been centralized and abolished by the Third Reich, in fact if not in law._**

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><p><strong>Something I wrote a looooong time ago that is actually now going to be a teaser for a multi-chapter story I'm going to be putting up very soon...look for the first part of <em>The Fighter, the Flier, and the Finder <em>series very soon. More information can be found on my profile.**

**This fic could also very well stand alone. Just wanted to say that if there is any historical inaccuracies, let me know and I will try my best to fix them, as well as any translation errors! Also, if anyone is offended by my portrayal of Hitler, please let me know, because historical figures, good or bad, are always very difficult. Thank you for reading!**

**Mischief Managed!**


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